


The Art of Letting Go

by gyuhyun



Category: Super Junior, Super Junior-M
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2387876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyuhyun/pseuds/gyuhyun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are different types of goodbyes. This goodbye is meant for those who'll never come back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Letting Go

The sun was high in the sky. The clouds were displayed all over the blue hues of the heavens. The birds were chirping from their resting places. To other people it was a great day. But not to me. 

I was the last one to drop the white rose. I was the last person to look at the mahogany colored coffin as people began to bury it six feet under. I could be the last living person on earth but I would never be the last one to say goodbye. I would never say goodbye.

In that moment, I did the only thing I could think of doing. I ran. I ran so fast that the only thought in my head was ‘Go faster!’.

“ANNE!” 

I could hear them repeating it over and over again. The voices were familiar, but I was too lost and too broken to care or even decipher who they were. When the voices stopped, I stopped running as well, only to find out that I was no longer near the funeral service. I could no longer see or hear my family and relatives. I was a bit lost but I felt free.

I knew I was still in the cemetery because there were still tombstones decorating the grassy land. I began to pant as it finally struck me how fast and how hard I was running. As I took a step forward, I managed to fall back on my butt as my legs finally gave way.

“Hey, you okay?” A man about my age asked. He rushed to me setting the bouquet he was holding gently on the grass. He had bright orange hair which was styled in a way that it was out of his face. He must’ve dyed it, I guessed. His eyes were a giveaway to his ethnicity: Chinese or Asian, at least. But he had such kind and gentle eyes that matched the smile he was giving me. 

I was so focused into observing the details of his face that I hadn’t realized he was talking to me. So that’s why he was smiling, I thought.

“Are you even listening to me?” He said as a chuckle accompanied the question. His voice was like the sound of the ocean. It was soothing, deep and breathtaking. It calmed the storm in me.  
He took my hand and pulled me up. He smiled at me again. 

“Can you walk?” He asked.

“Yes, thank you. Sorry if I wasn’t listening earlier.” I apologized slightly bowing.

“So, you can talk?” He chuckled again and I swore my heart beat tripled. “I was beginning to think you were mute.”

“I’m Henry. Henry Lau, but call me Henry.” He grinned as he offered his right hand. I returned the smile and shook his hand. Somehow it felt like I hadn’t smiled in such a long time.

“Anne. Anne Dickson.”

“You have a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I ask, but who are you visiting?” I asked. I don’t know what pulled me to ask but I did so anyways. It may have been the want to talk to him for a longer time or it may have just been curiosity, but I think it was the former.

“Oh! Let me introduce you.” Henry took hold of my hand and led me through the cemetery to a small spot where a big gray stone was standing. It had a lot of words engraved on it but I only took notice of the name: Stephen Lau.

“Dad! I’d like you to meet my friend, her name’s Anne.” Henry said as he laid the flowers down. He looked at me as if he was telling me I should say something. Feeling a bit awkward at having to introduce myself to a tombstone, I didn’t really know what to do.

“Just say whatever you like.” Henry winked and I could feel a blush creeping to my cheeks. He must have noticed my discomfort.

“Uhm…H-Hello.” I stammered. “My name’s Anne and it’s very nice to meet you.” I put on a smile to hide my embarrassment, but Henry started to laugh at me, making matters worse.

“Hey!” I warned as he instantly stopped and apologized.  
Henry smiled and sat down on the grass and patted the ground beside him, signaling me to sit beside him. I did and I smiled.  
I somehow felt slightly better with all this. I felt light with the way he was talking to me or treating me. It was different with how other people were treating me.

“My father died when I was young. When I make new friends or something, I introduce them to my dad sometimes. It gives me that comforting feeling that even though he’s gone now, the people I’ve met, he’s met as well. Do you understand what I’m saying?” He asked smiling as if it would help me understand. But I did. Even if he didn’t smile, I would. 

I nodded my head and his smile relaxed. 

“It’s nice to meet your father, too.” I said glancing at the tombstone and found myself staring into the photo frame that was placed in front of it. I grabbed the frame and asked Henry if it was alright if I looked. I guessed that it was a picture of his father. His father was indeed young when he died, but the smile he had on the picture was bright and real. He must’ve been very happy with the life he’s lead. 

“I don’t mean to pry, Anne, but what are YOU doing here?” Henry asked as I set the picture back to its place. I smiled sadly at him as the tears I tried so hard to control threatened to fall. 

The question was bringing back thoughts and memories I don’t want to replay in my head. 

“If it’s too personal, its okay. You don’t have to tell me.” Henry said taking my pause the wrong way. I don’t know but for some reason, I felt that if I talked to him it would help. It’s weird because I never even wanted to talk about it with my family.

“No, no, it’s okay.” I wiped the tears that were threatening to fall. I smiled again. He looked worried but less when I smiled. 

“If something is bothering you, maybe I can help. Did you know it helps to actually talk about it? I know. I’ve tried it. Don’t worry, I won’t interrupt, I promise.” Henry said as he put his pinky out and I giggled as I interlaced it with my own. 

“It’s a promise then.”

I took a deep breath and told him my story.

“I’m here because it’s my father’s funeral.” Henry was wide eyed but he didn’t bother to interrupt. I smiled at his keeping his promise. “I… I can’t stand being there anymore. It’s like choking myself. It’s like everyone is judging me. I had to run away.” I swallowed as the thoughts of the events today and the past began to enter my mind; part by part, replaying a never ending scene.

“My father was terminally ill and during his last few days, the doctors had told us he needed to be hospitalized to lengthen his life span. My family agreed to this and used this time to say goodbye. Every one of them said goodbye. Except me.” My voice broke as the tears were getting harder and harder to stop from falling. 

“I… I couldn’t say goodbye. I believed for the longest time that my father would live. That he wouldn’t die. I was the one who prayed the hardest. Saying goodbye would be like killing my father for me.” I could finally no longer control the tears and began to cry. I wiped the tears but they didn’t stop. They never seemed to stop. 

Despite Henry being a stranger, when he enveloped me in his arms I felt warmth and comfort. I continued to cry even harder letting out all my frustrations that I could never properly let out.

“And-and if I-I say goodbye, it-it will be like I just made my father disappear out of my life forever! Goodbye means forever, Henry. I don’t want my father to go away.” I cried out as Henry began to shush me. He began whispering words that were hard for me to decipher yet still comforted me.

“I always believed that when you said goodbye, you’re never going to meet that person in either a long time or forever, too.” Henry whispered.

“So you understand why I can’t say goodbye?” I asked as I freed myself from his hold.

“Yes.” He smiled sadly. “But you have to.”

“Why?! Why should I say goodbye?” I whined as my voice broke and was hoarse from the crying and shouting. 

“Hey! Hey! Listen to me.” Henry said as he wiped my tears with his thumbs, caressing my face in his hands. “We all have to say goodbye one day. This kind of saying goodbye isn’t applicable to the goodbye we’re talking about.” 

“This kind of goodbye is different. It’s given to the people who aren’t coming back. The people who’ve left but still have a hold on us. The people who we let go because there’s pain in their memory.”

Henry’s smile was so sincere that I felt like believing in his words. The tears were still a bit continuous but they no longer flowed like a mad river.

“But, but what if I forget about my father? What if-What if saying goodbye will be like erasing my father’s existence in my life?” I asked and he sighed.

“It’s up to you if you forget about your father. What I’m trying to say is if you say goodbye to your father, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll no longer have a father. He’ll still always be with you. In here.” He said as he pointed to his heart and I began to understand his words little by little.

“When you say goodbye, you don’t forget, you move on. When you say goodbye, you let go, Anne. That’s all there is to it.” He said as each word registered in my mind and I felt his warmth leaving my face.

I wiped my tears like a kid and smiled. Even though I had just met him, he had managed to help me out the most and I just couldn’t contain my happiness and hugged him. It may have been because he has somewhat been through what I’m going through.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” I exclaimed as I tightened my hold on him. He hugged back and whispered a small you’re welcome.

“I’ve been there before, so I know.” He said as I withdrew, finally realizing that I have only met this man today.

“Still, thank you.”

I hugged Henry one last time out of gratitude, wiped my tears and stood up from my position. As I walked back to the direction I came from I realized this may be the last time I will ever see this guy. I turned around to see him smiling at me and I smiled back. 

“See you soon!” I shouted as I ran back to where I originally came from. 

 

That was the last time I saw Henry. Maybe it was because we never really went to the cemetery at the same time. But every year, on the day that I do visit, I always make sure to place one bouquet for his father and I know he sees it because he does the same to me. I don’t know how he found my father’s tombstone but he did. I just smile at the sight of it as my family wonders who could be doing it.

The time I spent with him may have been short but it was life changing. His lesson may have been simple but it offered great wisdom. And that will probably the only thing I’ll never say goodbye to.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this when I was in High School. It was something I submitted to my English teacher.


End file.
